The death trilogy.

As she frantically typed into her keyboard, she could feel her arms getting more and more tired. This girl had a lot in her mind, and so little time to put it all in words. And for privacy reasons, this girl will remain unnamed.
3 stories clouded her imagination and were begging for an escape.
She started the first one.

Melanie enjoyed the scenery of the streaks of moonlight shining through the branches of the tall trees, a seemingly peaceful view from an otherwise gloomy and scary surroundings. A young girl, all alone and completely dressed in black in the middle of a forest was definitely not what you'd expect. 
See, Melanie was overly fond of the feeling of fright. And to say that would be underrating it. She adored it. The feeling of adrenaline consuming her body in rushes, and the sudden stop of thoughts and the sudden coldness of her blood. 

She had struggled with depression and depersonalization for too long, and when she started studying the occult as just a curious past time with her grandmother, she discovered a way to make herself feel something, anything. And she started becoming more hungry for it, for fear.

Her legs sprawled in the soil, she placed the ouija board she had received from her grandmother, and starting contacting spirits. However, no one would approach her. With gloom in her eyes, she made her way back home.

A few days later, as she fixed herself for school and stared at her reflection in the mirror, she realized she look somehow, dead. Bloodshot eyes, pale skin and skinny bones. This wasn't her. But as she blinked, her reflection became normal. But this was far from normal. A slow, deep voice ran through her ears and she could only catch a faint "im finally home".

Surprisingly, the voice never quieted. Like she thought it would. And it was kind of nice. The thoughts that she thought she could hear were friendly and macabre at the same time, inviting and cold, random and intelligent. She had somehow befriended it. The voice and Melanie could spend ours just trading thoughts, predicting Melanie's every move before she even thought of it, and even doing activities the voice enjoyed, like watching horror films or seeing the news. 

But one day, the voice became too loud for Melanie. It tried controlling her, blinding her off reality and called her to commit one of the most gruesome things a human could ever do...

She lost inspiration, just when she was getting to the end. Instead of struggling to come up with a boring and terrible ending, she decided to continue to her second story.

Mara wanted to talk about her childhood like any other girl did. But it was impossible, because what she lived wasn't close to childhood, it was hell. She had been in a mental facility most of her life, getting tested, talking to shrinks and people in white robes, and talking to only her parents and them. And Rain. Rain was the only one she enjoyed talking to, he somehow understood. Mara became fond of his dark blue hair and green eyes from the day she saw him appear from a corner of the west wing of the facility, scratching his hands. Her parents didn't like Rain very much, though. They said he wasn't a real boy, that he couldn't see him. But he was real to Mara, at least until she came out of the facility.

Her life went to a different direction after that. She made friends, real ones. She learned new things, became really popular and most importantly never saw Rain again. She had almost forgotten about him, until a new boy with soft, glow blue hair appeared in the entrance of her school. 

But it was different, people could actually see him, they felt his presence. She wasn't the only one. So this couldn't be the Rain from the facility, she assumed. He introduced himself as Sam. She liked Sam.

That same day, at night, a party took place in a lakehouse, and Mara couldn't wait to see him again.
He showed up with a devilish smile and a charming air to him, and even if he was beautiful as an angel, something about the way he walked, or how he talked, or even how his hand were always hidden. 

She was surprised when her new friend took her to the porch, accidentally slipping his jacket and revealing scratches in his hands. Mara stood still, her breath uneven, paralyzed. 

"You see, Mara, I never thought we'd see each other again. You forgot about me. You became like them. Normal, ordinary. I liked the little girl with imagination. The girl who dreamt about voices, screams and monsters. I guess the old times have to make a comeback."

"Im not like that anymore. Im not going back there, Im fine now, Rain."

"We'll see about that."

Mara's heart flipped when Rain pointed to something in the lake. Something large. Something cold. Something dead. Or almost dead...

And then she stopped. She just wasn't feeling like writing such a gruesome ending now. She'd probably finish the third one, she thought.

As I drew the knife into her head, warm blood splattered all over me. I had gotten used to the feeling of blood, but the taste didn't feel quite right just yet.

I left the scene as quick as I got there, the black hoodie covering my bloody face. My job was a dangerous one, but it was work, and the only thing I could do to make it better was at least enjoy it. They called me crazy for it. They tried convinsing me that I was insane. If they'd knew how perfect my murders are, they'd call me a genius.

As I moved into my next job, I started to plan it out. Weapon, prints, victim's postition, everything had to be perfect, because this was a murder I would truly enjoy. My victim was a cop, a very famous one, and my boss put a big hit on him, which I took immediately when I found out the man who wanted to put me in jail was the man i'd be killing tonight.

As I sneaked into his home, I saw a figure in the living room. It was him, and he knew it was me.

"I thought you thought you were smart. I'm always expecting you, Sawyer."

He had something in his hand. 

She couldn't finish it. Not because she couldn't think of something, but because a hand had been placed in her mouth. She tasted blood.

As she turned around, 4 people were looking at her dead in the eye.

"Did you really think you could kill us?" said a dead looking girl.

"You don't own us." said a girl with bloodshot eyes and a blue-haired boy's hand in hers, not letting her go.

"Change the endings." said a boy with a black hood.

They were them. Melanie, Mara and Rain, and Sawyer. She wrote about their spirits, and she had angered them. They were in her head for a reason.

"Let us live. Or you'll die." said Sawyer.

The four of them were just staring at her. Death in their eyes. And for a second, a rush of fright went through her veins. And then she turned off her computer.

"Bloody demons." she said.